Song of the Cricket

By Charles O. Uzoaru

Song of the cricket is a collection of poems and poetic discourses. Its goes beyond poetry and delves into the various philosophical and practical aspects of life and humanity in a very simple language. The book brings to the forefront issues and dilemmas that affect individuals in their daily lives, and stimulates the mind to ask questions and engage in meaningful discussions concerning life and humanity. It is s composite of ethics, psychology, philosophy, literature and human behavior.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 14, 2013
• ISBN: 9781477289822

Charles O. Uzoaru

Charles Onyegbule uzoaru, M.D. is a graduate of Columbia University , New York (1974), and the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine, Philadelphia (1977). He is a practicing Obstetrician/Gynecologist. His first novel, “Behind a Timid Mask” was published in 2005. His books “Road to a Happy Marriage” and “Born in Africa” were published in 2011.

Book preview

SONG

OF THE

Cricket

(A Collection of Poems & Poetic discourses)

CHARLES O. UZOARU, M.D.

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AuthorHouse™

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© 2013 by Charles O. Uzoaru, M.D. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse   01/07/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4772-8981-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-8980-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-8982-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012921412

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Break The Cycle!!

Look Beyond

Dementia

What we take for granted

Sharing both and neither

Be thankful

Tears unlimited

Colorblind within—

Prejudice

Alili

Ups and Downs

Please call me Mom!

Just Like My Mother

For the sins of others

Voices From Beyond

Stolen Childhood

The Cancer Next Door

When I needed you most

Faces of Hypocrisy

The Bereaved

The Female Gender

Worthless Words

Stretched to the Limit

Beat Me Physical

There Comes a Time

Before You Blame Me

I Could Have Blamed You

All the Worrying

Dying to Belong

Desperate Moments

Freedom Fighters

Dear Country Club

Across the Bridge

Away From Home—

Different But Same

Stuck in the Hearth

Something to Hide

Charm in the Closet

Nothing Comes From Nothing

Can’t Cheat Nature

Doctors in White

Each a Piece of the Puzzle

Patriotism

From Behind the Lens

The Shadow

Footprints

Behind that Fence

Loneliness

Mother Instinct

Who but a Monster

Seeds in Disguise

If it Hurts…

The Medical Student

The Sins of Father Paul

Drama at the Market Square

Moments of Seclusion

Take Me the Way I Am

Tortoise and the Elders

Tug of War

Gallantry

Filled to the Brim

Be Yourself!

The Wrong Villain

Before You Follow Your Dream

Too Big For One

The Real Boss

A Nip in the Bud

The Blind Spot

No Relationship is Perfect

Before You Get Married

The Day I Ran Away from Home

A Date in the Morgue

From Jewel to Junk

The Persuasive Monologue

Dedication

To my late parents, Paul Uzoaru Njoku and Mary Otelahu Uzoaru (nee Njoku) for their hard work, honesty, and unconditional love for us their children. They embraced hardship in order to keep us comfortable and they gave us that which they never had. We can never express enough gratitude for their sacrifice and love for us.

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Paul Uzoaru & Mary Otelahu

The sound of Crickets.

The sound of crickets;

stridulation—

does it remind you of poetry

and poetic discourses?

Only the male sings the chirping song

to court and charm the female.

The female, rather than sing,

absorbs with pleasure and gratitude

the romantic sounds of the male gender.

The same song that courts and charms females

has the opposite effect on other males.

It warns and wards them off from a claimed territory.

Who would think that ordinary crickets

could be so romantically sophisticated?

What makes the male sound so romantic to the female

and so threatening to other males?

Is it something hormonal in nature?

Is it the changing tunes and amplitude of the song?

Is it the verbal interpretation of the sounds?

The female, unlike the male, hears a song that is soft,

gentle and charming.

She can’t resist the seductive influence

of a male cricket chirping for romance.

Crickets;

they have neither larynx nor vocal chords.

They use what they have to get what they need.

What they have is wings and teeth

and that’s what they use to voice and express romance.

Crickets;

when the temperature is up,

their mood is up and when it’s cold,

it’s time for them to take a break.

They, too, obey the laws of Nature.

Crickets;

do they remind you of poetry

and poetic discourses?

Perhaps—

Break The Cycle!!

Don’t build me a house;

child,

don’t build me a house.

Just break the cycle!!

Day in day out, me and you

we huddle together in acts of desperation.

We cry for food and we cry for housing.

We cry for the simplest of all amenities.

We are surrounded by strange neighbors big and small;

rats and roaches,

mice and bullets.

Gone from complete trust to paranoia,

we tremble at the sight of a police officer

and we run

even when nothing seems to be chasing us.

Every day when we finish crying together

you try to console me with a promise

that someday,

you’ll buy me a car.

Don’t buy me a car;

child,

don’t buy me a car.

Just break the cycle!!

From grandfather to father to me and you,

the story has remained the same.

In place of knife,

we use our teeth to peel the fruits.

And,

while others advance into better housing,

we turn to tree branches for our roofs.

Break the cycle child,

and let my grandkids and futures generations

have a home they’ll call their own.

Plant the root of education,

child,

plant the root of employment.

Plant the root of freedom,

child,

sow the seeds of security;

security from poverty and despair,

security from ignorance and abuse.

Don’t buy me gold and silver;

child,

just break the cycle!!

Your grandfather struggled with illiteracy;

so did your father and I.

Your grandfather’s wheels were his two strong legs;

so were your father’s and mine as well.

Your grandfather’s clothes were washed

with rain that fell on him;

then dried by the sun that baked his skin.

His body had become a washing and drying machine;

so did your father’s and mine as well.

A line must separate the past from the future

and that line,

child;

that line has got to be you.

The past will always be part of the future;

a future whose ethos are different from the past.

Don’t build me a castle;

child,

with drivers, servants and maids at my service.

Don’t surround me with luxuries unlimited.

Just break the cycle!!

Plant a seed;

a seed that’ll germinate into a powerful tree

with strength to withstand a hurricane.

Day in day out,

me and you,

we grind our teeth from a frigid life.

I cook rats for proteins,

and the only carbohydrate around

is left-over piece of stale bread.

With wet wood that smokes like hell

it takes a long and awful time to make a meal.

The only thing we have going for us

is the pride;

the love and determination

that no one can take from us.

You are proud of me and I am proud of you.

You are determined to build me a house.

To that I say

thanks, but no thanks

I’d rather you be determined

to grasp success with both hands and plant your root

deep down the earth.

Plant a root,

child;

plant a root

that will serve generations yet unborn.

Don’t buy me clothes designed by the best.

Don’t buy me luxurious cars;

child,

Just break the cycle!!

From grandfather to father to me and you,

we have been stuck deep down the pit.

The time has come with you on the lead

to advance from pit to grass to the skies.

Don’t get me wrong,

child;

don’t get me wrong.

I’d love to go to the moon.

I’d love to travel in style.

Who does not like good things in life?

Don’t worry about me,

child

for I have already lived my life.

Don’t dream dreams for me,

child;

don’t dream dreams for me.

Just break the cycle!!

{We know what happens in a cycle. Some event or series of events will occur in a repeated sequence. We can think of different undesirable cycles:

Cycle of poverty, cycle of deprivation, cycle of want, cycle of illiteracy, cycle of dependency, cycle of ignorance. It’s like a baton which is handed down from great-grandfather to grandfather to father to son.

Think of a family living in a deep pit below the level ground; the same pit that had harbored generations before them. At some point in time, someone has to make a move to break the cycle and advance the family to the level ground. Down the pit (unlike up at the level ground) they have less room, less comfort, less air to breathe.

Should you accept living in a zone of illiteracy and ignorance like your grandfather and your father before you?

A young woman seemed to have gone through it all. First, she was divorced by a husband of so many years and left to bring up her three children, two boys and one girl, all by herself. Then, she lost her job and ended up in a shelter with the little kids. This was someone who previously had a vibrant family, a managerial job, a very good house in a decent neighborhood. Suddenly, she found herself in a shelter.

Her oldest son was quickly thrust into the world of adulthood and he began to act like a father (to the family) and a big brother to the junior ones. The boy’s priorities and those of his mother are starkly different. Each wants to take care of the other in different ways. The boy’s priority is to buy a car for the mother while her priority is to help the son break the cycle so he and his siblings will escape the difficult conditions they had found themselves in. In order words, the mother is looking for something durable; something that will not perish like cars and luxurious items. She is thinking about others rather than herself. Instead of acquiring some luxurious item that would someday become obsolete, she wants something that will benefit both the present and the future generations.

There have been situations where a young man or woman achieves something great and practically lifts an entire family up to unimaginable standards. The opposite happens, as well, where a young man or woman will drag down the image and well-being of an entire family to the mud.

Cycles do get broken and individual and collective status can be shifted from one level to another. Have you ever thought of such a shift in your life?}

Look Beyond

Look beyond my gender

so you can see the power within me.

You know me as one made to be soft,

kind and gentle.

I have mammary glands that are meant

to nurture life and nourish the young.

My face may be soft,

almost as soft as the heart that advocates peace.

Take heed and provoke me not.

Take heed and push me not.

Be careful how you under-estimate me,

for the strength within is far beyond your imagination.

Look beyond my childhood

so you can appreciate who and what I am.

You knew me from childhood

as one whose father was a bricklayer.

My father’s head was bald;

bald from carrying heavy cement blocks

in broad day heat.

Today,

whether you believe it or not

I have gone beyond riches;

beyond silver,

gold and diamonds.

Today,

my father chairs a Board

that runs a conglomerate.

Now,

my father’s head is filled with hair;

the type of hair that only few can afford.

Look beyond my religion

so you can value the virtues that made me special.

You know where I pray

You know my spiritual leaders

You know the religion I was born into;

a religion that’s different from yours.

If I could ask,

should one religion be different from another?

Isn’t it the same God we all serve?

Keep religion aside

and see the spirituality of one in front of you.

I have a spirit that’s superior to religion;

a spirit that preceded religion and will exist

long after religion is gone.

Look beyond my color

so you can grasp the magnitude of human ingenuity.

You know me as one whose color is different;

very different from yours.

You’ve been taught the things my color brings;

things that smack of negativity.

You hate my color so much it turns you

blind;

blind to all inventions I made to improve your life.

Polluted and blinded by prejudice,

your mind is too oblivious to the

fine qualities of one whose color is different

from yours.

What is color but the dye of melanin?

Deeper than the skin are qualities beyond vision.

Look beyond the skin

and you’ll find a bed of human ingenuity;

qualities that are neither common,

nor easy to attain.

Look beyond my accent

so you can grasp the wisdom coming from

the mouth.

Your speak to me with an accent,

the same way that I speak to you.

Show me a universal language;

a universal accent

and I’ll show you five fingers that are the same.

Is it my accent you don’t understand

or

your determination to paint me stupid?

True knowledge lies in the mind

beyond the reach of spoken words.

Look beyond the accent,

and you’ll learn a thing or two from me.

Look beyond the cab

in which I drive you around the city.

You know me as a security guard at night

and a friendly cab driver during the day.

Back home where I come from

I’m a king of people like you.

I have a bevy of maids to serve with grace

and well groomed servants to enforce my judgments.

Here,

all you see is a driver

whose cap and shoes are fit for the trash.

Look beyond the cab

and you’ll discover a crown worth a fortune.

{We human beings tend to have a myopic view of people and things in front of us. There is always that tendency to generalize—we categorize people of a particular color or nation or religion not as individuals but as a group. By so doing, we become misinformed and ignorant of individual potentials and pitfalls. Unless we take time to understand individuals, we are bound to treat them differently from who and what they are.

Apart from lumping individuals together as a single entity, we also tend to ignore the fact that people and things do change with time. A high school drop-out of yesterday could become one of tomorrow’s most successful individuals. We must not fix our gaze on a person’s appearance, situation or fortune at a particular moment in time. Time has a way of reversing individual (and even collective) fortunes.

It’s not only human behavior and tendencies that we have a habit of lumping together but what other people eat, the way they dress, and how they worship. We tend to forget that everyone is not the same and that someone can even behave in ways that are contrary to the local norm.

Look beyond your immediate vicinity, you may see something bigger the vicinity itself}.

Dementia

Not long ago,

he was an icon;

a legend,

a forceful voice—

a voice that seemed to vibrate through the universe.

Every word of his,

every suggestion that came from his mouth

was chewed,

swallowed, digested and

stored by the insatiable world of conformism.

His word was the law;

his outfit the fashion-setter.

When he walked the halls of power

his footsteps were recorded and rehearsed

for future reproduction.

Every inch of him;

every act of his was scrutinized for perfection.

A common nut chewed by his teeth,

would break the record as the best,

in town.

Today,

he is a shadow of himself;

the icon in him blown around like harmattan leaves.

He is subdued,

stifled,

abused and kicked around;

not by the rich,

not by the mighty and the powerful,

but by an invisible demon called dementia.

Kept beyond the reach of the paparazzi

by those that love him most,

his face has gone from ubiquity to obscurity.

He wanders aimlessly

around the house,

oblivious to the passage of time.

A champion of people’s health and well-being,

he’s no longer obsessed by his own nutritional needs.

His spouse of yesteryears

grapples with lingering thoughts and images

of the glorious past.

She’s constantly on the move chasing shifting shadows

as she tries to fight the helplessness

of one known to be her better half.

She wonders if,

and how much longer,

she can hang on.

Some days,

she wishes she could exchange places

with the faded icon;

a mere wishful thinking.

Other days,

she wants to end it all the same way it started;

hand-in-hand,

two-in-one,

into the hands of the waiting death.

Not long ago,

she was the Madam;

the lady that conquered the hearts and minds of all.

Every man,

big and small, dreamt dreams of sniffing her scent.

She had luster;

she had class.

She had the sparkle of an immortal gem.

When she smiled,

her teeth would melt the hearts

of every race.

Her body was a perfect match

for every outfit.

If her name was music,

everyone would die to sing a song.

Today,

she is a shadow of herself;

a priceless gem tossed around by the invisible wind.

She’s lost a sense of time,

a sense of direction,

a sense of belonging,

a sense of well-being.

A champion of freedom,

she is held hostage by an insidious entity called dementia.

What manner is this dementia that

Subdues the best of the best?

Dementia;

you degrade the best among us.

You disgrace them in a most demeaning way.

Yet;

as dehumanizing as you are,

you remain so faceless,

so reclusive

and difficult to decipher.

What exactly are you hiding from?

With all the research weapons;

all the experiments mobilized in your pursuit,

you remain hidden in your convoluted corner.

Keep hiding, dementia;

keep hiding.

One day;

one fateful day,

your luck will run out and the forces

of the medical world will bare your secrets

and clip your tired wings.

One day,

with science on your trail,

there will be no more victim;

and

no hiding place for you.

{Imagine a universe where humans share the same space with other creatures. This concept always brings to mind something called alien creatures. The aliens however, if they do exist, do not live side-by-side with us humans. They come from out of space.

Interesting, we humans have immediate neighbors that we don’t think much about. These neighbors share the same space with us and mingle with us constantly on a daily basis. They have few advantages we don’t have. They are not confined by space or nutrients. Their number is many times our own and growing. There are billions of them for every person on earth. Overpopulation is not an issue for them, nor is a means of livelihood. Perhaps their greatest advantage is that they see us while we are totally blind in their midst. In times of conflict, we fight them blindly and hope we hit the target. Everywhere we are, we are completely surrounded by them. They even penetrate and colonize every opening, every hollow viscus of our system. They cover the entire skin, they populate our entire dwelling, they descend on everything we use and touch.

These neighbors are the bacteria, the viruses, the microscopic organisms that inhabit our system and follow us everywhere we go.

We are constantly at war with these organisms and they affect every part of the body. When they subdue the brain and the nervous system, we can develop anything